


Study Break

by ilcuoreardendo



Series: Imagine This (Supernatural Imagines) [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: College, Dirty Supernatural Imagines, F/M, Female Reader, Oral Sex, POV Female Character, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Reader-Insert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-11
Updated: 2014-12-11
Packaged: 2018-03-01 00:20:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2752574
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ilcuoreardendo/pseuds/ilcuoreardendo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>You’re not sure someone who can throw corny English major jokes (What happened when Past, Present, and Future walked into a bar? It was tense!) your way is tied up in organized crime, but, hey, you’ve been wrong about men before.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>But his possible criminal ties aren’t exactly at the forefront of your mind as the two of you stumble into the nearest janitorial closet in Milton Hall.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Study Break

**Author's Note:**

> Written for this [**_Dirty Supernatural Imagine_**](http://dirtysupernaturalimagines.tumblr.com/post/81632777531): _Imagine Gabriel being the janitor at your university and having a bit of naughty fun in the janitor's closet._
> 
> Originally written and posted at my [Tumblr](http://ilcuoreardendo-fic.tumblr.com).

* * *

 

Gabriel You’ve-been-flirting-with-him-for-two-months-and-still-don’t-know -his-last-name drives a blue, convertible Jaguar. You’d caught sight of him parking it one morning when you showed up on campus an hour early due to a malfunctioning alarm clock. 

For this reason alone, half your friends think he might be tied up in something shady, maybe even Mob shady. (What janitor can afford a Jaguar?)

You’re not sure someone who can throw corny English major jokes (What happened when Past, Present, and Future walked into a bar? It was tense!) your way is tied up in organized crime, but, hey, you’ve been wrong about men before.

But his possible criminal ties aren’t exactly at the forefront of your mind as the two of you stumble into the nearest janitorial closet in Milton Hall.

You’re not really sure how you got to this point.

How did you go from saying “hi” when you passed the man in the hallways and laughing at the overly embellished compliments he threw your way, and flinging snap-quick comebacks to some of his smart-assed comments, to having his mouth on your neck, his hands sliding under your shirt to caress your back?

You’re not even sure who made the first move.

But you decide you don’t care as you drop your bag, spilling books out onto the floor, as his hips fit snug against yours, as you arch against him and he presses you back into the wall, before turning the closet light on. The single bulb flickers, casts the room in sepia tones.

"I want to see you," he says, lips moving over your cheek, toward your mouth. "When I make you come, I want to see your face."

You kiss his mouth when it moves into range, startling a noise out of him as you suck his lower lip between your teeth. He tastes sharp and sweet, of the faint flavor of chocolate and mint.

Cupping your head in his hands, he gently pulls you away, presses you flush against the wall. The next moment, he’s sliding to his knees, pulling your skirt and underwear with him and lifting one of your legs over his shoulder.

Leaning close, he puffs warm air against the curls of your pubic hair, the sensitive, damp folds of your crotch. Your fingers find their way to his head, wending through the soft, dark honey whirls of his hair.

His tongue flicks out over his lips and he looks up at you. “You ready for this?”

You let out a groan that’s half laugh, half misery. The foreplay is decidedly over. “I want you to put your tongue to use for more than just asking obvious questions or cracking jokes.”

He grins up at you, the curve of his mouth looking extra wicked in the low light, his eyes flashing burnished gold. Your heart stutters and for a moment you think of your comparative mythology class, of sly eyed elves and mischievous tricksters.

Gabriel winks at you.

Then he follows that wink with a quick, wet flick of his tongue along your slit; it’s like an electric current through your body, traveling up your spine, lighting up every nerve ending. He repeats the movement, runs the flat of his tongue gently over your clit, sliding it between your lips. Then, pushing your leg higher, he buries his face against you.

Almost reflexively, you push against him, riding the slickness of his tongue, your hands clenching too-tight in his hair. You force yourself to pull them away. He makes a muffled noise and for a moment you’re worried he’s smothering. But he just grabs one of your hands and puts it back on his head before surging forward again, suckling at your lips, and the pearl of your clit. And that shift in pressure is all it takes to make your whole body seize, to tear a moan from your throat as you come.

He drinks you down like a man dying of thirst.

A moment later, he’s staring into your eyes. You’ve never been with a guy so close to your own height. The eye contact is intimidating

"I was right," he says, voice rough and breathy. "You’re gorgeous when you come." He fits himself between your hips; you can feel the line of his cock against you and it makes you ache.

"Condom," you gasp out. "Tell me you have one."

He rests his forehead against the curve of your neck, murmurs into your skin. ”I guess we’ll have to do this a second time. I’m afraid I’ve blown the always be prepared motto….”

A huff of laughter escapes you. “Don’t tell me you were a Boy Scout?”

"I won’t," he says, pulling away to give you a suggestive raise of an eyebrow, his hands caging your wrists. "But next time I can demonstrate the two hitches knot."


End file.
